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At least he will be looked after at home... they will help him at once. But he'll die before you get him to the hospital." He managed to slip something unseen into the policeman's hand. But the thing was straightforward and legitimate, and in any case help was closer here. They raised the injured man; people volunteered to help. Kozel's house was thirty yards away.
Meanwhile Raskolnikov had squeezed in and stooped closer over him. The lantern suddenly lighted up the unfortunate man's face. He recognised him. "I know him! I know him!" he shouted, pushing to the front. "It's a government clerk retired from the service, Marmeladov. He lives close by in Kozel's house.... Make haste for a doctor! I will pay, see?"
"That's his notion!" "Talked himself silly!" "A fine clerk he is!" And so on, and so on. "Let us go, sir," said Marmeladov all at once, raising his head and addressing Raskolnikov "come along with me... Kozel's house, looking into the yard. I'm going to Katerina Ivanovna time I did." Raskolnikov had for some time been wanting to go and he had meant to help him.